I sat on a bench and next to me a man was feeding the birds. I picked up a book and began to read. Something touched me and I saw out of the man’s eye that he was looking at me. His cobalt-blue eyes, full of tears, were asking for my attention. I stopped what I was doing and began to say: “What do you want?”
“To tell you my life story. My children and grandchildren don’t listen, but I hope you will listen to me with your heart.”
At that moment I felt a shiver, indignation towards him, but above all affection for that stranger. I hadn’t even finished thinking about it when he began: “Don’t judge me, but what I have to tell has eaten away at me all these years. Years spent beside a pain, a pain and emptiness that my wife tried to fill until the day she died...”
(I was stunned, waiting for the next sentences.)
“When I was a boy, back in my youth, I had a love that I carry deep within me. Clinging to my heart. But it wasn’t a normal love ; I fell in love with a boy, and he with me. If I remember correctly, it was in the summer. I can still smell his scent, feel his face brushing against mine, and hear his words whispered in my ear...”
“But why are you telling me this?” I asked. He replied: “When I was younger, I left the person I loved for the sake of my family and ‘ my ‘ friends. The problem is that I was never happy. I never loved another person. My wife tried until her death, but nothing made me forget him. I got married because my parents forced me, but while I was with her, I tried to make her happy. And I’m telling you this so that you never make the same mistake. Because although we need others, we need to be happy and live without guilt for making mistakes. We are not perfect.”
At that moment he got up and left, not giving me a proper answer. I stood there waiting for him to return, but I never saw his face again. However, I will never forget his advice: “Although we need others, we need to be happy and live without guilt. We are not perfect.”